


She Wants the D(warf)

by sabinelagrande



Series: Horns [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM Club, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dwarf Thirst, F/M, Fetlife, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much to her chagrin, Cassandra has a fixation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Wants the D(warf)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to pearwaldorf for looking this over!

Cassandra is not Google-stalking Varric.

If she were, such a thing would not be very difficult. Varric is, of course, accessible with any search; results include his Wikipedia page (superficial, vague), @varrictethras on Twitter (ten thousand followers, boring tweets from his publicist), a number of reviews (mostly good from mainstream sources, mostly bad from smaller ones), and more than one impassioned defense of his novels as the ultimate guilty pleasure reading.

Cassandra is stalking Varric on Fetlife. There's a difference.

There is no varrictethras on Fetlife, though there are seventeen people who list him as a fetish. Cassandra didn't need to stalk him in order to find out his actual username; this is good, because his username- which is, Maker preserve them all, roguishlover69- is just slightly too ridiculous for her to have figured out for herself.

("I used to be dwarflover," he told her, "but it sent the wrong message."

At the time, she was so awestruck by meeting her favorite author and thrilled by finding out he was Her Kind Of People that she almost missed the joke.)

Varric's profile is well-used; granted, the majority of his status updates are variations on the theme of him announcing he is on Fet to avoid writing. He has a good number of friends, a clever bio, a list of fetishes, and lots of posts on his wall. On the surface it seems like everything is there, that Varric is operating in good faith and cheerfully opening up.

The problem is that nothing Cassandra actually wants to _know_ is there. He has a list of fetishes, yes, but aside from "high heels (watching others wear)", everything is silly jokes. His bio is concise and friendly, but sidesteps the issue of what he kinks he likes. Most damningly, he lists his role as "Kinkster", and Cassandra doesn't even know what that's supposed to _mean_. There are many dozens of things that are kinky, hundreds of them, and being interested in any one of them could qualify one as a "Kinkster".

Cassandra's profile very clearly lays out everything that a person would need to know, were they interested in her. That is how it should be done. One should answer the questions posed, implicit or explicit; specificity could turn out to be vitally important.

( _I am pathetic_ , she texts Josephine, after she drains her second glass of wine.

 _You are not pathetic, my darling,_ Josephine sends back. _You are thirsty. Not the same thing. ;)_

Cassandra picks up the bottle again and opens Zappos in a tab.)

The true injustice of all of it is that Varric is not some person she has never met that she randomly decided to stalk. She's known Varric for months now. The other people she's met in the lifestyle are easily classed- Vivienne is a high protocol domme, Dorian is a pampered sub, Sera is an iconoclastic switch- but not so with Varric. He comes to the club, but he doesn't play, nor does he seem to be a voyeur. 

The glimpses she gets of him are so fleeting, so superficial, and it is more than she can stand. Everything is a story; everything is a dodge. She doesn't even know how she can want a person so much without being able to see into him, but, very unfortunately, she does.

(Her most closely held fantasy involves picking him up by the collar and shaking him until he reveals what his angle is.

There are others, but that one is somehow the most satisfying.)

Cassandra would like to say that her frustrations with Varric don't translate in the way she treats him, but she knows they do. She can't seem to help herself; she's brusque by nature, but she can be downright hostile where Varric is concerned. The only thing that saves them from actually fighting is how even-tempered Varric is.

And then one game night, Cassandra finds the limits of his patience.

It's been a long week; she thought coming out would make her feel better, but she's still punchy. They're playing Wicked Grace, and she's losing rather badly. And she says something- really, she says a whole series of somethings to Varric, cutting enough that she sees Leliana and Josephine exchange a look. One more jab, and Varric carefully puts his cards on the table and stands up.

"Cassandra, can I have a word with you?" he says.

"I suppose," she replies, feeling a mixture of confusion and dread. Varric leaves the table, walking out of the lounge, and Cassandra catches up to him. "Where are we going?"

Varric stops, looking around. There's not much for privacy in this area; neither the kitchen nor the classroom has a door, and the utility room is kept locked. "In here, I guess," Varric says, pushing open the bathroom door. Cassandra rolls her eyes as he waves her in, but she goes, letting Varric join her and shut the door behind them.

"Okay, out with it," Varric says, crossing his arms.

"Out with what?" Cassandra asks, mirroring his stance.

"Out with whatever problem you have with me," Varric replies.

She scoffs. "If I had a problem with you, you would know."

"I know you have a problem with me, and that's why I dragged you in here," Varric says.

"This is ridiculous," Cassandra says. "Let me by."

"No," Varric says, blocking the door- as effectively as he can when he's a foot shorter than her, anyway. "You don't get to leave until we solve this."

"Are you threatening me?" she asks, incredulous.

He puts his shoulders back, though he doesn't look quite as confident as he could. "Unless you're going to punch me for it, yes."

There's a long, tense silence.

"What does 'kinkster' mean?" Cassandra blurts out, narrowly stopping herself from slapping her hands over her mouth.

Varric stares at her blankly. "What?"

"Kinkster," Cassandra says, trying to muster her defenses. "On your Fetlife profile. It has to mean something."

"What does Fet have to do with anything?" Varric asks.

"I'm leaving," she snaps, moving towards the door again, but Varric blocks her.

"This is really what you're upset about?" Varric asks. "That my Fetlife profile is vague?"

Cassandra knows she has to say something, anything to stop this moment from happening, to stop it all from tumbling out of her hands, but she just doesn't get there in time.

"Oh," Varric says softly. "You are."

Cassandra narrows her eyes at him, giving him her very coldest glare. "Forget that any of this happened, and I won't knee you in the groin."

"You wouldn't be the first woman who tried," Varric says, and he doesn't move out of the way. "It means I'm flexible. I won't turn somebody down just because we may not match each other point for point."

"Oh," Cassandra says.

"All this shit works better when you use your words," Varric says gently.

"I'll keep that in mind," Cassandra says. She rubs her forehead. "I've made a terrible mess of this."

"It could be worse," Varric says. "Promise me you'll knock it off with the snippy comments, and we can talk things over."

"I would like that," Cassandra replies.

"So would I," Varric says, and the exaggerated way he checks her out makes Cassandra laugh despite herself. He steps away from the door. "Now let's get out of this bathroom before Josie starts thinking we're fucking in here."

"After you," she says, and Varric gives her a smile as he opens the door.

("Nice shoes," Varric tells her, as he nudges her into the bedroom.)


End file.
